Phones buzz. Emails roll out. Some students celebrate with cheers, while others drown in rejection and heartbreak. This cycle repeats all year until the May 1 commitment deadline, a date that seems to determine high school seniors’ postsecondary future and, consequently, their entire self-worth. A college decision letter can make or break a senior’s year. But acceptance isn’t the only roadblock; the final commitment still relies on financial aid and university assistance.
The commitment deadline — commonly known as National College Decision Day — is a yearly reminder of the unhealthy pressure placed on students regarding college admissions. It reinforces the unrealistic expectation that a student’s value is tied to the prestige, selectivity, and national recognition of the school they attend. This “college prestige culture” pushes students to believe that anything less than a top-ranked university is a failure. At the end of the day, an education is an education, and all students deserve fair, equal access to one.
This pressure is only intensified by the dramatic rise in competition. A 2025 report from JRA Educational Counseling found that the “number of students applying to college has risen by 30% since 2020-2021, and the number of applications submitted has increased by 55%.” Thirty years ago, the lowest admission rate at any U.S. college hovered around 12%. But today, the most selective institutions admit closer to 3%. College admission is more competitive now than ever, leading to harmful effects on students.
Teenagers drown themselves in SAT prep, AP courses, and extracurriculars, leaving minimal time for basic self-care. Still, even the most accomplished students face rejection. Senior Kyler Dorn, a top scholar with a 4.37 GPA, a 34 ACT score, nine AP courses, and numerous extracurriculars, was rejected from Harvard and Yale and was waitlisted at Northwestern.
“It really impacted my self-esteem and made me feel worthless,” Dorn said. “It’s hard to look past right now, but I know that eventually I’ll get over it. The low admissions rates at these Ivy League and other top 20 schools makes people want to go there more, just because that’s human nature.”
Even if students are accepted to top universities, they’re met with another impossible barrier: the cost. The top schools that students feel pressured to attend are often the ones with the highest price tags. According to the Education Data Initiative, the average cost of college in the U.S. is $38,270 per year. Prestigious universities such as Northwestern or University of Chicago can cost around $90,000 per year, greatly exceeding the average American salary of roughly $62,000. Additionally, The College Post reported that “more than 93 percent of American students couldn’t go to their dream colleges due to their inability to afford tuition.” But those who do attend are haunted by debt, as $1.5 trillion is owed in student debt across the United States.
“I think that the U.S. should act more like other countries, and the federal government should help fund students going to college,” Dorn said. “Also, I think the U.S. should pass a limit to how high tuition can get.”
Though federal grants and scholarships do exist, they can only help a small percentage of students. For everyone else, the soaring cost of tuition, housing, and basic living expenses turns higher education into a financial gamble. When society treats only certain schools as “worthy” or only certain students as “deserving,” the cycle of prestige-driven pressure and financial division continues.
If the U.S. truly values learning, then access to it should not depend on a family’s bank account or a teenager’s ability to navigate the CommonApp. Postsecondary education should be a right, not a luxury. In the long run, it does not matter whether a student attends community college, a state school, or an Ivy League university — selectivity does not guarantee success. Intelligence is not diminished by the school a student can or cannot afford to attend. It is defined by the determination to learn despite the barriers placed in the way.
“No matter where you go,” Dorn said, “It’ll be okay.”
